Order of the Omni: A Supernatural Romantic Suspense Novel (The Immortalies Book 1) by Penny Knight (good english books to read txt) 📗

with no peering eyes from the outside. Another sign that I am on the right path. This is why he hasn’t been caught yet. He’s just as smart as he is sly. This building is the perfect place for a secret love affair.

And who knows, maybe if my plans turn out, one day this will be my life. Strolling along cobbled paths, walking into luxurious hotels across foreign countries. Finishing my day of sightseeing, walking back to rest my feet, before my seven-course meal at...

“YOU!” a shrill comes from behind me, breaking my imaginative, well-deserved holiday. I keep my head low and walk. Whoever the lady is talking to should run for the hills, she does not sound happy.

Rough hands grab my elbow and pull me to a halt.

My heart skips a beat. Maybe I’ve been busted?

But then the smell hits me. The intense body odour, mould, and is that wet puppy?

I scrunch my nose, looking at the old shriveled woman in front of me. She tightens her grip on my arm. When I look down at her hand, I feel bad but can’t help wondering when the last time she washed them was. They’re filthy.

“You shouldn’t be ‘ere,” she hisses at me.

What?

Are you kidding me? I just need one fucking break today.

My eyes widen, looking in her vacant eyes. She tugs again on my arm, and her skin feels like rough leather against mine. Looking around, I notice people have slowed and watch as this grey-haired woman maltreats me on the street.

“Uhh,” I start, turning back to look at her. “Sorry, can you please let go?” I whisper, not wanting this situation to garner more attention.

“I see it all around you,” she continues, and ignores what I just said.

With caution, I try to release my arm, but her grip tightens.

“It’s light. There is no colour. Nothing. You. It’s you,” she says, getting louder.

It’s not like I don’t have compassion for the homeless. I was almost on the street myself. There’s no doubt I could have been this lady. Alone, rambling to strangers on the sidewalk, but I was lucky someone had taken me in as a kid and kept me safe.

I may have been abandoned, but I refuse to be the victim. I chose to not only survive but build a life for myself. So yeah, I have compassion and want to help, but this woman is spinning off this planet, and she’s taking common sense with her.

My head still pounds, and she’s going to blow my cover. I’m not meant to be noticed. There’s no time for compassion, not now. Richard Carrington was due any minute, and I need to be inside to set up ASAP. With my spare arm, I try to loosen the grip.

“Your blood. You have to keep it. We are all going to die!” she yells.

“Quiet woman,” I hiss, getting angrier. Her rants become more obscene. I break her grip and my arm comes loose.

“You dream, don’t you?” her voice lowers as she asks me.

I freeze on the spot.

There is no way she could know about my dreams.

“Concentrate,” the grey-haired lady continues.

My heart pounds hard, and my chest is heaving. Now she is freaking me out.

“Shield your eyes. Let it in slowly. You will see it. You will,” she says.

That’s it, that was enough. I can’t hear anymore, it’s all too much.

“I have to go,” I say and turn to start walking back to the hotel. But a deep sickening gasp comes from behind me and stops me in my tracks. Swinging around, I find the older woman on her knees with her head bowed down, shaking, and not wanting to look up.

“What the actual fuck?” I mutter. Looking around, there is crowd that’s formed a circle around us. Great! This isn’t embarrassing at all. No one help, geez. I shake my head at them and focus back on the woman. Her body shakes as she shivers, scared on the pavement, but the old lady stays with her head bowed down.

She looks lost, helpless as she kneels there. I step closer and bend down to touch her shoulder. Her eyes peer up to mine, and as they make contact, they roll back into her head like the beginnings of a seizure. Shocked, I stumble backward and trip on my own feet, falling to the floor. My satchel with my laptop and tools hits my side under my ribs, causing me to become winded. She crawls forward, inching towards me, and my heart speeds up trying to gather my footing and avoid her touch. Her white eyes forever burn future nightmares in my mind.

The crowd gathers closer. In the corner of my eye, I see the porter from the hotel running towards me. The grey-haired woman edges closer and closer, arms outstretched, wanting to touch me. Hands land under my arms from behind, and the porter helps me to my feet.

The older woman coughs, heaving coughs from deep inside her chest, like something is stuck in there.

“She’s choking!” someone yells from the crowd.

Back on my feet with the porter behind me, we stand there as the woman coughs and spatters.

I’m torn. Do I help her, maybe pat her on the back? I don’t know. The other part of my brain, or maybe the devil on my shoulder orders me to get the hell away and run for the hills. She scares the absolute crap out of me.

Her coughs grow louder as blood splatters from her mouth. Gasps and screams erupt from around me. Someone is already on the phone with emergency services, thank God. But I can’t just stand here and watch this poor lady. Even though my hands shake, and I stand here paralysed. I know she has to be terrified. She’s sick and with everyone here watching, no one is offering her any support. She’s alone, there is no one else to help her.

I walk closer.

“Wait, be careful,” the porter says behind me. He’s worried, and I don’t blame him. This whole